


Eye Contact

by GydroZMaa



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gakuen, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 18:31:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2631923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GydroZMaa/pseuds/GydroZMaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leon Wang, a new student, has transferred to the esteemed Academy W. When his seat is assigned next to Emil Steilsson, it is all the shy student can do to keep his defenses up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eye Contact

Emil had heard the rumors buzzing around the school like irritable flies in his ears. From the moment he had entered the school grounds, they had been whispering of a new transfer student coming all the way from Hong Kong, the little island region right below China.

He had read about Hong Kong; it was a small island not even big enough to be considered its own province in China despite being a world of its own. Thanks to development projects from England, the island had become a bustling superpower of buildings, business, and everything in between. He had heard the food wasn't bad, too.

Why then, he wondered, would someone from such a fascinating city want to come all the way here? The school, while regarded for being at the top of its ranks in academics and sports, was situated far from any large city; in fact, quite the opposite: it was built atop a quiet little hill in a quiet little valley with a quiet little town leading down from a quiet little road. Those who lived in town walked up the hill. Those who had an alternative means of transportation either came in cars or biked. Simple as that.

Emil had heard of the students in Hong Kong using the subway and walking because it was impossible to get around by car—or was that only in mainland China? He couldn't quite recall the details, but he dropped the thoughts and continued on his way past the chattering students to homeroom. However, like the majority of the students, curiosity began to get the better of him. Perhaps it could have been exciting to have something new happen in this school—and he didn't mean something like a new made-up school event conjured up by the student council or a new kind of fundraiser; he secretly hoped for a change in atmosphere, something new and fresh to break him from the cyclical routine he was constantly stuck in.

But what was he thinking? Even if the new student had been anything interesting, he knew that the school's pedagogy would tie the student down and set things right. Brilliant and active minds had come from all over the world to attend this academy, and yet, none of them were remotely deviant from the other. Everyone had something in common. He wouldn't have admitted it aloud, but Emil thought that even his brother's friend, Mathias, had something strangely in common with the rest of the students here. The quality, on the other hand, was something that couldn't quite be put into words.

And Emil wouldn't have to worry about putting the quality into words anytime soon. He had reached his classroom.

Emil was a quiet student. The teachers had brought up their concern to his older brother during the meetings. At the time, Emil's brother had served as his guardian, and as a result, he always had to stand in for their parents.

Fortunately for him, Lukas, his brother, was a fairly quiet person, too—not because he didn't choose to speak, but because he could be rather timid, himself. Emil liked to think of himself as the sort who wouldn't talk out of turn. Only talk when you're supposed to, he thought.

After some discussions here and there, Emil had found himself wedged in the back of the classroom far from prying eyes and the attention of his instructors. It had been made that way until it had caught in with every single one of his classes like an infectious disease. Pretty soon, everyone had passed him by like a ghost. The only other equivalent to Emil's situation would have been Alfred F. Jones' younger brother. Embarrassingly enough, Emil couldn't even remember his name.

All in all, Emil was actually surprised that he could be ignored like this. It wasn't that he was plain; he was far from it to his eccentric tastes all the way down to the way he looked. His hair was an unusual shade of soft white like the freshly fallen snow. Only one other person had a similar hair color as him. Emil was surprised  _anyone_  besides him had white hair. (There had been rumors of a gifted and artistic relative of Roderich's that had white hair as well, but no one knew too much about him.)

White hair aside, Emil also sported a pair of unusual pale lavender eyes. His eyes were nearly dichromatic, as they would sometimes switch between pale lavender to a light shade of pale blue. He had thought that perhaps this was an inherited trait since his brother also had a sort of dichromatic eye color of dark sapphire blue to an almost blue turquoise kind of hue.

Complimenting his light hair and eye colors, Emil's complexion was pale in comparison to his classmate counterparts. It must have had something to do with being from the north, though he felt that having such light hair had been enough to convince people he was a ghost. When musing to himself, he often thought that he might have been.

Suddenly, he heard the room go silent. It was exactly eight in the morning, and the teacher had not arrived yet.

Emil's heart throbbed. Perhaps, he presumed, the new student had been transferred to his homeroom. If so, things might have been exciting for a while. This would be interesting. Then, he found himself sitting straight up. He didn't necessarily think his usual posture was improper, but he thought he should make himself look more presentable to this new student—just to set an example of the school's reputation.

A muffled chorus of voices began to buzz like the tuning session of an orchestra. Something interesting was about to happen, and the students wanted to gather as much information as possible: to be prepared.

Then, the door open. First came the teacher, his familiar, enthusiastic face beaming with the same morning greeting smile he always came in with. It gave Emil some reassurance that the teacher at least tried to look forward to teaching the class. And then, the student followed.

Emil had never seen anyone quite like him before. While he looked proper enough, there was something about him that screamed "delinquent" or "rebel" or anything that could remotely describe a mischievous person right away. Perhaps it had been the way this student appeared. From a first glance, Emil had nearly mistaken this student for a girl: his dark brown hair was sleek and soft, well conditioned. His bangs were stylized into two side bangs that parted down the middle and fell to his jawline. In terms of body build, this person wasn't bulky or big-boned like some of the students Emil had seen here; rather, this student was fairly skinny, but not tall enough to be considered lanky. Complete with his slightly golden skin lacking any blemishes, Emil had initially thought that this new student was a cross-dressing girl up to no good.

But he stopped himself. Beyond the hair and the skin, Emil could see the clear cut of the student's face narrowing at his chin and his sturdy neck that couldn't have belonged to a girl. His chest was, of course, completely flat, and his wrists were not delicate and feminine; they were well formed, evenly sculpted like a perfect figurine. And his hands…

Emil caught himself and brought his eyes to the back of the person in front of him, hoping to distract himself from his thought.

He  _liked_  this student's hands. They weren't stickily and spidery like his brother's hands, and they were bulky and hardened like Berwald's, they were just right. They looked reassuring, comforting, yet strong and determined. Suddenly, Emil began to wonder if those hands were soft of not.

But he shoved the thoughts to the bottom of his mind and struggled to focus on something else.

His eyes. Emil hadn't seen his eyes yet.

When he brought himself to study this student's eyes, he nearly gasped—not because he was startled but because he was fascinated.

This student's eyes were like liquid pools of the afternoon sun. They bore a lovely shade of gold unlike any he had ever seen or hoped to exist. Complete with the fact that they fit perfectly into his slightly narrowed sockets, Emil found the student's eyes to be the most captivating feature about him. This made him wonder if perhaps this student was an experienced flirt.

"Class, this is…this is L-Lei Si-Si…" The teacher's voice trailed off, embarrassed that he couldn't even hope to pronounce the new student's name correctly.

"Leon," the student smirked. Emil caught him rolling his eyes in more amusement rather than annoyance. "I don't mind if you call me by my English name if that's easier. I'm used to it, anyway."

"Yes, yes. Very well," the teacher quickly acknowledged. "Class, this Leon Wang. He's going to be joining us in our homeroom from now on. Please make him feel welcome."

"Pleased to meet you," this Leon person said with a plastic smile. Since Emil was in the back, he wasn't sure if the other students were smiling back. Nevertheless, there was a chorus of "Pleased to meet you," and in a matter of seconds, the teacher had assigned the new student to the only available seat in the classroom: next to Emil's.

"Hey, we get to be in the back together," Leon smiled as he took his seat beside him. "So, like, what's your name?"

"Emil," Emil mumbled, averting his eyes away from him. This was new. Definitely interesting, but he didn't think he wanted to be comfortable with him just yet. He didn't know enough about him. What if he talked to him and found out he was some kind of no-good petty thief of a drug abuser? Well, he didn't  _look_  like one, but one could never be too sure in this day and age.

"What was that?" Leon asked. "I didn't catch it."

"Emil," Emil said a little louder.

"Look, Snowflake, you're going to really have to speak up. We speak loudly from where we come."

" _Emil_ ," Emil growled through his teeth loud enough for everyone in the classroom to turn their heads towards the back corner of the classroom. In an instant, Leon was ignored, and Emil became the center of attention.

"Heh," Leon chuckled. "Emil, huh?"

"Yes," Emil bluntly replied, hoping he would stop talking so he could focus the rest of his attention on the other announcements.

"Hey, Emil, like, you wanna be friends?"

Emil shifted uncomfortably in his seat. You didn't just ask someone if you wanted to be your friend. You had to get to know them first, get familiar, gain their trust, spend some time together. You couldn't just become someone's friend because they asked you if you wanted to be or not on the first few seconds of introducing yourself. Friendship wasn't supposed to work that way.

 _Is it?_  Emil wondered.

"A- _hem_."

Startled, Emil flinched and looked straight ahead. The teacher was tapping his foot against the floor, and the students were looking at the back corner of the classroom again.

"Leon, Emil, I know you two are excited about meeting someone new, but could you wait until  _after_  class to talk?"

"Yes, sir, we're sorry," Leon automatically apologized, his voice ringing with a near genuine tone of regret.

The teacher cleared his throat again. "Well then, let's continue…"

Emil had never been embarrassed like that before. He had never been scolded like that or did anything for the entire class to stare at him—and twice in the same day! If this was going to continue on for the rest of the year, he wouldn't be looking forward to having this Leon person as a friend—if "Leon" was even his real name.

Just as he was going to take a breather and stare out of the window, his phone began to loudly vibrate in his pocket, causing him to jump out of his chair and stand straight up.

"Mr. Steilsson, is there a problem?" the teacher asked, his voice getting progressively lower and deeper with each passing syllable.

"N-No, sir," Emil swallowed.

"And need I remind you that all phones are either to be silenced or completely turned off during school hours?"

Emil's hands clenched into tight balls. "No, sir. It won't happen again."

"It'd better not." Then, the teacher continued to read the agenda aloud.

Mentally cursing, Emil took the opportunity to dig out his phone and silence it, but before that, he found that the source of the vibration had come from a text message. To his surprise and shock, the contact was listed under "Leon." He would have interrogated his new classmate sitting next to him, but he figured he always had too many warnings today. He would have to wait until after class to check the message and ask Leon some questions.

All of a sudden, this wasn't turning out to being the kind of "new and refreshing" Emil had hoped for.

When class had ended, Leon had stayed behind to talk with some of the more enthusiastic students who were excited about his transfer. As a result, Emil had to time himself accordingly so that he wouldn't be late for mathematics. While waiting, he had taken the opportunity to check the message from "Leon."

" **i like ur eyes** "

Emil forced himself to frown. His stomach writhed with an unexplainable feeling, and his heart contracted as though having a heart attack.

 _I like your eyes?_  He couldn't even begin to fathom why anyone would risk getting penalized for texting in class just to make that sort of compliment. Was it an insult? Did Leon find his eyes amusing because they were so unusual? Emil wasn't the only one in the school with lavender eyes, and he wouldn't have minded introducing him to Leon. Perhaps he could dump his problems on someone else.

"Emil!"

He winced in response. When he looked over his shoulder, Leon had already caught up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, preventing his escape.

"What do you want?" he spat with an acidic tone.

"What class do you have next?"

"I—Why are you asking me?" Emil huffed. "There are plenty of people who are willing to help a new student, and I happen to not be one of them. Good day." He thought to leave on that last note, but he had forgotten that Leon still had his hand on his shoulder.

"Whoa, if you're mad about something, you can tell me," Leon said.

"I'm not mad, I'm annoyed—annoyed that you won't find someone else to help you. My calculus class is on the other side of the building and— "

"Calculus?" Leon repeated. "You have calculus? That's great! Me, too! We can, like, go together! What room?"

"As if I'll tell you," Emil grumbled.

"286?"

Emil said nothing.

"It's 286, isn't it?"

Emil's mouth remained closed. Leon smirked.

"I knew it. It  _is_  286, right?"

"…Yes— "

"I knew it!"

"Geez, you know now, so get off!" Emil growled. "Of all the times Lukas wasn't here…"

"Did you say something?"

"No."

"You said something about Lukas. Who's Lukas?"

"My brother."

"Oh. Older or younger?"

"Older."

"Cool. So you're the youngest in the family?"

"You can say that."

"So am I," Leon smiled. "That's nice."

Emil narrowed his eyes. "How?"

"Because we have something in common."

"Just because we do doesn't make us friends."

"But we are."

Emil suddenly stopped. He immediately regretted doing that thinking Leon would bump into him, but instead, Leon stopped right next to him as if waiting for him to say something.

"I never said I was your friend."

"Right," Leon snickered. Emil found it annoying that he saw it amusing. "So do you have very many? Friends, I mean. You're kind of cold."

A lump appeared in Emil's throat. He couldn't bring himself to say "yes" or "no." When the lump disappeared, he continued on his way, walking faster than before. However, Leon had no problems catching up. It was then that Emil noticed he was nearly the same height as him; at his speed and position, he couldn't tell who was taller, but he thought it would be slightly annoying if Leon was taller than him.

"Hey, you didn't answer my question," Leon said, walking beside him.

"We're going to be late for class," Emil grumbled.

"That'd be funny if we had all of the same classes, wouldn't it?" Leon laughed. "Then we could study together. Eh, but, I don't really need to study, anyway."

"Why?" Emil threw at him. "Is it because you're a delinquent?"

"No, it's because I just don't need to."

Emil regretted asking the question that way. He had expected someone like Leon to get angry with him for even considering he was a delinquent. All the same, Leon had brushed it off like an afterthought, and he was still following him.

"Why do  _you_  want to be friends with  _me?_ " Emil asked out of the blue.

"Why not?" Leon rhetorically answered.

Emil pressed his lips together. "There are much better people to hang around with."

"Like who?"

"People who…" Emil caught his breath. He had been walking too fast, and his head felt light-headed. His doctor had warned him about pushing his body even in minor situations.

"Yeah?" So Leon was still listening.

"People who are active: Smart people, outgoing people, funny people, nice people…"

"So, like, you're saying you're none of those things?"

"Get off my case."

"…So you don't have friends."

Out of nowhere, Emil's body suddenly became hot. He was frightened. It was like he was going to erupt from the inside out and explode like steam. His breath grew short and humid. Then, his eyes clouded. He couldn't see where he was going, but he continued to remain looking forward, never blinking. He hadn't felt this way in a long time, so exposed and fragile like this. To say it was embarrassing was an understatement. He hated this feeling. He wanted to be left alone.

"Where are you going? Isn't class this way?"

Emil cursed. So Leon already knew where his class was. Why did he continue to follow him, then? Was he— ? Emil's heart jumped in his ribcage. Leon was following him.

Gaining the advantage of the passing period rush, Emil pushed his way into the crowd in an attempt to dissolve among the students and disappear from sight.

 _Bathroom, bathroom, bathroom_ , he frantically thought. He hadn't felt this way in a long time. He thought he had grown up by then. This wasn't so. He hadn't changed at all. If anything, he was pushing himself farther away from his problems instead of facing them. He felt weak. He  _was_  weak. Here was someone who had come half way around the world to attend this school, and the first person he attempts to make friends with is someone who won't even bother to look him in the eye and try. Emil had given up before he even started.

But it was too late.

As the safety of the men's restroom came into view, Emil ducked inside and went to the farthest stall, locking himself inside and crouching on the floor. His mind raced. No matter what, he was going to be late for class—assuming he was going to go to class at all, but why would he go when his eyes were all swollen and red from preemptive tears ready to flow like water from a broken dam?

His brother would get mad at him if the school called, asking where he was during calculus. There wasn't a test or quiz today so Emil couldn't use the excuse that he wanted to skip out, and Lukas knew him too well to know if he was faking a sickness or not. He was trapped with no way out. Either he would have to face the humiliation of his class or the disappointment of his brother.

"I'm so stupid…" he whispered, tucking his head deeper into his chest as the first tears began to leak.

"Emil?"

He held his breath. That stupidly persistent jerk had somehow tracked him to the bathroom. Then again, how hard was it to spot a boy with white hair in a crowd of mainly blondes and brunettes?

"Emil, I know you're in here. Don't pretend you're not."

Go away, go away, go away. Dark thoughts clouded Emil's head, blocking him from accepting the possibility that Leon might have been concerned about him. Why should he have been? He wasn't his friend. It didn't work this way.

"There you are."

When Emil looked up, he gasped as he saw Leon leaning over the bathroom door and undoing the lock. When the lock clicked, the door swung open with a large sweeping motion, nearly smashing Leon into the wall.

"Here we go," Leon muttered as he kicked himself back against the wall and dropped down from the door and returned to Emil's side.

"Go away. Go  _away!_ " Emil barked, backing up against the toilet.

"Eugh, Emil, if you don't get your act together, someone's going to come in here and get the wrong idea," Leon sneered. "Come on. Get up and dry your tears."

"I'm not crying!" he shouted, shutting his eyes. "Why won't you leave me alone?!"

"Because we're friends, and friends help each other."

"We. Are  _not._  Friends!"

The tiled walls echoed in a ringing buzz at Emil's outburst. Both of them were silent, one stunned, the other ashamed at his cold nature. Emil cursed in his head. He didn't mean to hurt Leon's feelings. If anything, he was touched. Everyone who had tried to help him had been pushed away and out of existence. Leon didn't deserve this from him—not after he had been the first one he had reached out to. He felt terrible deep down inside.

"…But you  _want_ friends, right?"

Emil looked up. His eyes were drenched with tears, and his breath came out in shaky, uncontrollable gasps. Even against the foggy film of tears, he could see Leon's eyes staring at him with a gentle serenity unlike that he had ever known. Up close and directly, Leon's eyes transfixed Emil, observing every fleck of golden glimmers that shimmered in the fluorescent light. How could someone with such dazzling eyes think his dull lavender ones were anything interesting? It just wasn't possible. Irrational.

Emil swallowed. His lungs were deprived of oxygen, and his tongue fumbled to find the right response yet he attempted to speak.

"Y-Yes…" he stuttered. "Always."

Leon smiled. "If you want, I can, like, work to become your friend," he offered. "Maybe you won't think we're friends now, but in time, we might be. Would you like that?"

Emil sniffed. He could only nod at this point because a new wave of tears came pouring out, this time, not out of shame or sadness. Leon patiently waited for him to finish so they could go to class together.

"Augh, Yao's going to yell at me for being late to class on the first day," Leon groaned as he and Emil headed out of the school gates together.

"Who's Yao?"

Leon waved his hand around. "Eh…it's…complicated. He's like my guardian, but he's sorta like my dad, too. Everyone calls him 'Teacher,' though. At least, I usually do."

"Oh." Emil stopped to take out his phone. His brother had made it a routine habit of calling him after school to ask about his day.

"That reminds me…" Emil turned to Leon. "In class, you were already listed under my contacts."

"Yeah," Leon smirked.

"How'd you do that?"

"I snatched your phone when you weren't looking," Leon chuckled. "It's something I learned back home."

"Hong Kong, you mean?"

"Yeah."

So he really was from Hong Kong.

"I didn't think the teachers would be strict over here, too, though," Leon continued. "Yao would take away our phones and slap our knuckles with a ruler."

Emil flinched. "He did?"

"No, I'm just teasing," Leon laughed. Emil frowned. He was going to have to get used to this fellow.

"…And what about the text you sent me?" he asked. "What did you mean by liking my eyes?"

"That I like your eyes."

Emil felt his cheeks growing hot and his heart beating faster. That should have been something a guy said to a girl and vice versa, not a guy to a guy.

"L-Leon, you're not…you're not…are you…?"

" _Psh_ , no," he laughed. "But I really do like your eyes. You don't see that kind of stuff back where I'm from. It's nice—you know, the purple-bluish swirls you've got going on."

Was he supposed to feel flattered?

"Your hair is nice, too," Leon added. "It's messy, but it looks nice on you. I think I can do something about it if you want. My 'sisters' say I'm a pretty fashionable kind of guy. What do you say?"

"Eh…No, thank you," Emil politely refused. "Maybe some other time."

Leon casually shrugged it off. "Suit yourself."

Emil ran his hand through his white tufts of bedhead hair. "But you know…we don't see too many of your kind of eyes, either."

"Oh, yeah?" Leon smiled. "Yeah, it's a thing that, like, only happens around certain people. It's pretty cool. I still like your eyes, though. Here, let me see."

Without permission, he stopped and took Emil's check with his hand and turned his face towards him. There they were, eye to eye, looking directly at one another, lavender against gold.

"Your face is red," Leon suddenly chuckled.

Embarrassed, Emil pulled back and lowered his head to the ground.

"My face is still swollen from earlier, you jerk!" he snapped.

"Sure it is," Leon sarcastically responded. "But, you know, you should try to look at people more often."

"What?"

"In class. I've noticed you don't like to look at people when you talk to them. It's bad for business in the west, isn't it?"

Emil wasn't too sure. "I guess…?"

"I mean, you've got nice eyes. Let people look at them for once." Leon then slung his arm over Emil's shoulder. "And if you want, you can practice with me."

Emil's face fell into an unwilling frown. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I like looking at your eyes, and you like looking at my eyes. Win-win."

"You're pushing your friend boundaries, Leon."

"Ooh, you said my name."

"So?"

"You have an accent," Leon chuckled. "It's funny when you say my name. So English isn't your native language, either?"

"No," Emil replied. "Icelandic is."

"So Iceland? Like with the hot springs and licorice and weird music?"

Emil threw Leon a disapproving look. "Is that what you think my country's all about?"

He shrugged. "That's all I know. We're not exactly close."

"No, we're not," Emil agreed in more ways than one.

"Can I call you 'Ice?'"

"Where'd that come from?"

"On the surface, you're cold like ice—plus it's easier to say, and the only reason you'd speak Icelandic is if you were from Iceland, right?"

"Yes," Emil sighed, surprised at how casually observant Leon could be. "But I don't mind. My brother and his friends call me that, too."

"Cool," Leon smiled. "So you won't have to get used to it."

"I guess not."

"Does this make us friends?"

"Not yet."

"Oh. Tell me when, like, we are, okay?"

Emil looked at Leon. His eyes were reflecting off the sun's rays, casting a bright white-hot flash of gold in his irises. He had never liked it when people would look at him. It made him feel naked and exposed—even when looking at his brother. In Leon's case, however, he found something hypnotic about his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to look away, and perhaps Leon felt the same way about him. He could only hope so. This would be a good opportunity to practice, alright—a good practice for more than just making eye contact. Perhaps it was the start of something refreshing and new. Emil looked forward to it.

"Okay," he said.


End file.
